


Used

by LeoOtherLands



Series: All the Broken Pieces [10]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depression, Despair, Drugged Sex, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rare Pairings, Sexual Abuse, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 14:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoOtherLands/pseuds/LeoOtherLands
Summary: “I’m just so tired of being used.”Eventually, we all just want to be held and let it go.





	Used

**Author's Note:**

> From the top to the bottom  
Bottom to top I stop  
At the core I've forgotten  
In the middle of my thoughts  
Taken far from my safety  
The picture is there  
The memory won't escape me  
But why should I care
> 
> There's a place so dark you can't see the end  
(Skies cock back) and shock that which can't defend  
The rain then sends dripping acidic questions  
Forcefully, the power of suggestion  
Then with the eyes shut looking thought the rust and rotten dust  
A spot of light floods the floor  
And pours over the rusted world of pretend  
And the eyes ease open and its dark again
> 
> Moving all around  
Screaming of the ups and downs  
Pollution manifested in perpetual sound  
The wheels go 'round and the sunset creeps past the  
Street lamps, chain-link, and concrete  
A little piece of paper with a picture drawn  
Floats on down the street 'til the wind is gone  
The memory now is like the picture was then  
When the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again
> 
> In the memory you'll find me  
Eyes burning up  
The darkness holding me tightly  
Until the sun rises up  
In the memory you'll find me...
> 
> [Forgotten - Linkin Park](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mvMPjr8K90)

The fluorescent lighting hurt my head. It was like shards of glass shoved up through my eyes and into my brain. _It’s what you get_, a worn part of my mind chided. _It’s what you get for the liquor and what was in it. You knew what was in it._ I had to admit that was true. I had known what they’d put in it, and I drank it all the same. Smiling at Mizuki while I did it.

Sure.

It was normal. And it didn’t matter anyway. Other things hurt worse, and that was normal too.

But I’d missed work, lost my crappy, stupid, part-time gig, and was still struggling for focus at 8 p.m., halfway through my evening English Comp. course at my shitty, little community college.

_And exactly why did we peel our self off the floor and come to class, Sai? Why did we think that was a good idea? I mean, what’s the point?_

Sitting there, eyes down, pen languidly moving on my paper, concentrating more on the words spewing out than on Professor Itachi’s lecture, I didn’t think I had an answer to that one. Why _had_ I come to class? What _was_ the point?

Distracted and disgusted, I didn’t even notice when class ended, only mechanically and reflectively packing up my materials when I sensed my classmates doing the same. I wouldn’t even have heard Itachi say my name if he hadn’t been standing right next to me.

“Sai.” I blinked up at the slender man with the long, black hair falling straight down his back and over his shoulders. “You mind staying after a few minutes?”

_Great._

“Sure, Professor Itachi.”

It was awkward waiting for the other students to leave, and, when they were gone, it was no less than I expected.

“Is there something going on with you I can help with, Sai?”

I watched the man standing over me, knowing what he was looking back at. Pale face, dark circles under black, sunken eyes. A frame that was too small.

Still. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the papers remaining on my desk. “I mean this, Sai. You’ve turned in maybe two assignments the whole semester, you never participate in class discussions, but I’ve found your personal work left on your desk several times. Your stories, and the few assignments you did turn in, are excellent. You have talent. Making me wonder why you aren’t using it. Is there something happening in your life preventing you from applying yourself? The college has resources…” He tapered off when he saw the set of my face.

“Have you ever considered I just don’t feel like applying myself?”

He shook his head. “You’ve never missed a class, Sai. And I’ve checked with several of your other instructors, who have confirmed the same behavior in their classes. You are never absent, you don’t appear to pay attention, you seldom turn in material. However, when you do, it is of a high quality, demonstrating actual learning. These aren’t the actions of someone who doesn’t care. They’re the behavior of an intelligent individual who may require assistance. So, I’m asking you, is there anything I can help you with, Sai?”

I said nothing and he sighed. “Very well. I can only help you if you want to be helped.”

He indicated we should go, and I gathered the last of my things before following him out. It was awkward to walk beside him through the deserted halls. At twenty after nine on a February night, the campus was practically empty. Our footsteps echoed and most of the lights were dim.

It was a relief to step out the door and into the dark outside, even if I instantly shivered at the touch of the air on my bare skin. The relief didn’t last long, though.

His hand fell on my shoulder and his voice rumbled in my ear. “Where’s your car at, Sai?”

I slunk out from under his touch, almost tripping off the curb and into the parking lot. “Don’t have a car.”

He frowned, his brows furrowing over his dark eyes. “Is someone picking you up?”

“I walk.” I said it flat. A fact. Nothing more.

But he didn’t take it that way. “You’re going to walk dressed like that? It’s twenty below.”

He meant the crop top and the fact I didn’t have a jacket on. I shrugged, then hunched my shoulders. “So.” Not even a question.

The man sighed a disgusted sound. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“Not necessary,” I said, my stomach roiling at the idea.

But he was determined. His footsteps, crunching in last week’s frozen, dirty snow, stopped. Those black eyes locked on me. “I’m not going to leave you to freeze, Sai. It has nothing to do with your being my student. I’d do the same for anyone on a night like this.”

I didn’t believe him, but it was too clear he wasn’t going to let me go. And there was no way I could _make_ him leave me be. “Fine.” I said it lazy and followed him. _It doesn’t matter, anyway… _It didn’t. Used once, used again. Made no difference after the first time.

My hands were numb and my lips blue by the time we reached Itachi’s pickup truck. It was a dark color, indistinguishable in the shadowy lot. Once inside, I slunk against the door, as far from my instructor as I could get.

Flicking on the heat, he let his gaze run over me. “Where do you live, Sai?”

My tongue delivered the address by rout, and he frowned again. “That’s on the other side of town.”

“You don’t have to take me.”

“You _walked_ all that way here?”

“No,” I snapped. “I took the _bus_ here. It just stops running after eight, so I walk home.”

“Multiple times a week. After dark. In the dead of winter.”

My arms wrapped around my shaking torso. “Problem with that?”

“Where’s your coat?”

“Don’t have one.”

“You don’t-” He cut himself off. Grunting, he threw the truck into gear and backed out without saying another word.

The drive was blessedly quiet after that, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Once I’d thawed out in the warm cab, I just found my skin crawling in anticipation and my gut knotting up. I kept my face turned away but wasn’t sure if that hid the jump of my pulse in my throat or the rasp of my breathing.

It certainly didn’t stop me from seeing Itachi’s expression change as the neighborhoods outside the truck shifted. _Well, where’d you think I lived, pretty boy? Not all of us have the dough to live uptown._ The thought was bitter but also tinged with my own disgust at the ratty houses crawling by in the glare of the headlights.

Disgust.

There was a lot of that going around, at the moment. But the word paled against the look on Itachi’s face when he saw my residence and pulled to the curb in front of it. His jaw was locked, and those dark eyes were smoldering. The house was just what it looked like, after all. A dirty thing slouching there. Dingy. Unkempt. A sagging, gray porch leading up to an uninviting metal door. Cracked, clouded windows, some of them boarded over. The place was a pile. But the real treat were the overflowing ash cans around the legs of the rickety folding chairs and the scatter of green and brown beer bottles on the porch.

_See something you like, pretty boy?_

The thought was taunting, right before he let out, “You live _here_?” I suppose I should have anticipated the tone in that sensual voice, but it still left me cowering against the door. Heart throbbing, throat dry, I gripped the door handle, wondering if he’d let me go.

“It’s the address I gave you, isn’t it?”

He didn’t try to touch me, but the look he cast me had me wincing like he had. _Bet you could leave some marks if you felt like it, pretty boy…_

“Alone?”

The question was confusing for a moment, until I thought about it. “With a couple other people,” I muttered, looking down.

“Family?”

I shook my head, waiting. Waiting for the demand. Waiting for him to slide his hand across the seat and unto my thigh. But none of that happened. He only sighed again.

“I’ll see you in class, Sai.”

Surprised, and blind with it, I excited the truck on the fly, bolting up the stairs and avoiding the empty bottles with practiced ease. It was fetid inside. Over-hot and smelling of rotten garbage and other things. Unwashed bodies.

Didn’t matter.

Rasa was down for the count on what passed for a couch, Fūka sprawled on him in not much at all. Zabuza was in another room, smoking something. Not pot. Knew _that_ smell, and what was wafting out the doorway wasn’t it. Haku was slumped in the hall. When I slunk past, back to the wall, as if afraid to be caught from behind, he raised wasted eyes to me.

They’d gotten to him again. _Shit._

No sign of Mizuki, though. And that was… Disconcerting.

Tried to put it out of my mind, though. Didn’t matter. Not a bit. Sinking into the nest of blankets on the floor of what passed as my space, I just tried to not be. Not to think about Mizuki or Itachi or what a mess it all was.

† † †

I thought my professor’s little interest in my _situation_ would be the end of it once he’d let me out of his truck without interference, but the next class period found him at my desk again. Long, pale fingers tapping the wood to get my attention.

“Can you stay after a moment, Sai?”

_Fuck._

“Sure, Professor Itachi.” It was a murmur, so low I bet he had trouble hearing me. But he just nodded and stood there, waiting for the room to empty.

It was awkward. Those intense eyes flicking over every inch of my skin, while my classmates cast us curious looks. None of _them_ had been asked to stay even once. I’d been asked twice in a row.

_Sure, know how to make a scandal, pretty boy._ The thought was a little hysterical, but I pushed it down. Just hunching over my desk, until the room was clear. Then Itachi’s fingers tapped my desk again, drawing my eyes up to him.

He was wearing dark colors, per usual. Blacks and shimmering blues that set off hidden highlights in his long hair. Making that shimmer too. I bet both the shirt and the hair would feel like silk to my fingers. He really was a pretty boy. At least that was something. It wouldn’t be that bad. Or, it could always be worse.

“I’m taking you home, Sai.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“You’re walking?”

I said nothing. There was no point in denying.

He sighed. “Then I’m taking you home. Gather your things.”

No point in resisting either.

Sick to my stomach, I shoved my papers and book into my bag, careless of how they went or what might get bent or damaged. “Fine,” I said, standing. _Let’s get this over with, pretty boy._

I didn’t look up from the ground, until we reached his truck and he popped the lock. My frigid fingers had the door open before I realized Itachi wasn’t getting in. He’d opened his door, retrieved something, and was coming toward me with it. The sickness already in my gut decided to twist into something deeper and make the whole organ feel like it had dropped out of me. I backed away from the taller man, fetching up against the springboard beneath the open truck door.

At the least, Itachi could have taken my pallor for the cold. No mistaking my clenched fists or wide eyes, though. That was all fight and my professor seemed to know it. He stopped several feet away from me, face tight, and held out the item in his hands.

It was a thick, fur-lined parka.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a coat.”

“I don’t want it.”

He took a step nearer me, parka still extended. “Put the coat on, Sai. When I said I couldn’t help you, I meant I couldn’t assist you as your instructor. This has nothing to do with me as a professional. This is me as a man. Put the coat on before you freeze.”

I swallowed. Shaking, my hand reached out to grasp the dun-colored material, and I shrugged it on over my messenger bag and all. Only then did Itachi go back around to get in the driver’s seat. I followed, climbing up the running board and into my seat.

There was nothing for it.

We were quiet, as Itachi drove. The fur was soft on my skin and the heat from the vents soothing but chocking at once. Too much on my sick stomach and the twist of anticipation.

It forced me to shed the coat and my bag, dropping them to the floorboards. Then I sat curled up, hunched over my knees with my arms wrapped around my chest.

Itachi’s gaze cut to me, quick, then back to the road. “Are you alright, Sai?”

“Sure.” The word was garbled. Mizuki on my mind and the taste of something bitter on my tongue. “Park down the road from my place.”

His eyes darted to me and away again, but he did as I asked, pulling to a stop under the deep shade of an oak, bare of leaves. “Sai-”

I cut him off. Easily. Without saying a word.

I did it by crawling across the seat to drape myself in his lap. One hand on his crouch and my lips soft and teasing on his. Breath puffing in short, little bursts on his face.

Because, fuck it. I’d be damned if I was going to let him start it. Better to give in willingly.

He made a sound, half groan down in his throat, half surprised grunt. His mouth shut a moment, then responded, pressing into mine. My heart fluttered when his tongue pushed into my mouth. I wanted to cry. But that was pointless, too.

Itachi’s hand wrenched mine from his crotch. He held it up in the air while he released his seat belt. Then I was crying out because he was shoving me back against the passenger door. His palms met my bare abdomen and played over my skin. Our kiss deepened to something sloppy, and I squirmed under him. I wanted to go for his fly, get this over with, but Itachi was still holding my wrist in an awkward way. Holding it, even while he felt up around my ribs.

And he was so fucking strong!

I couldn’t have gotten out form under him if I’d wanted to. He could really leave some marks on me, really _hurt_ me, if he wanted.

But, what Itachi wanted was indeterminate. One moment he was making me lightheaded, his tongue worshiping my mouth, almost making me choke, the next he was making me wail, jerking both my arms over my head and pressing them to the cold of the window glass.

“What the hell is this?!”

I struggled in mere surprise against and under him. My eyes were damp, eyelashes clinging and clumped, my pants too tight, and heart throbbing painful bursts in my chest. “What you want!” I screamed it in his face the way I’d, a moment before, been moaning into him.

“What I-” He seemed to expel the words. Disgusted by them. By me. And why not.

_You’re nothing but a slut, Sai, and you know it. Good for one thing._

“The rides, the coat!”

He snarled; eyes almost red in the dashboard lights. Grip like steel on my wrists. “You thought I wanted to fuck you?!”

I wailed again, but his voice overruled me. “I do not want to fuck you! I’m trying to help you!”

Nod. Nod and pant and turn pleading eyes up to his. _You can have me! You can have whatever you want!_

He seemed to see the words behind my wide-eyed stare. Itachi hissed and pulled me upright. More disgust painting his features. His grip loosened but did not let up. “I want nothing from you, do you understand me, Sai?”

Another nod, though my mind was both blank and swimming.

“I intend to help you, and I want nothing in return, do you hear me?” A pressure on my wrists, making me wince, as I acknowledged him.

“Okay!”

The man watched me, slow, deep scrutiny undressing me down to my bones and sinew. “Take your coat and your bag and go home. I _will_ see you in class.”

A final nod and I was free. Wrists released, my belongings in my arms, and my legs carrying me over the frozen sidewalks and into the vapid interior of the house I returned to like a whipped dog. Too well trained to run. Too beaten to run. I dashed passed Fūka and Rasa and Zabuza and the room where Haku moaned and pleaded under Mizuki, and sought refuge in a knot of blankets with my nose pressed to the coat Itachi had given me. It smelled like him. His scent clinging to it the way I was sure it clung to me.

It was a good thing Mizuki was busy.

† † †

After that night, Itachi drove me home every night I had classes. It became expected. As did the offerings of food and other things he presented me with during the trips.

“You’re too thin, Sai. Eat this.” As he handed me a paper sack over the seat.

“What good is a coat without gloves?” As he passed me gloves, hat, and scarf.

I didn’t resist. Didn’t refuse. Just took it like the bitch I was. Took it, knowing I’d reap the consequences from Mizuki.

Yet, even knowing what was coming, a rapport, or, at least, an understanding seemed to grow up between the Uchiha and me. Enough where I’d mumbled a few words at him from time to time. Enough for me to fall into twitching, deep sleep, curled into a ball against the passenger door, and Itachi wouldn’t wake me. Would just drive until I woke up.

Safe.

Itachi was… Safe.

That damn, pretty boy…

Even with that notion, or, more so, because of it, I still put up fights on occasion. When he held a scrap of paper out to me with his phone number printed on it in neat, crisp digits, I looked at it and flatly refused.

“I don’t want it.”

With fingers already gripping the door handle, I would have bolted, but Itachi wouldn’t let me. He held me with his eyes and his sensual voice.

“Take it. Just in case you ever need someone.”

I shook my head, desperate to leave, but he sighed and held out his other hand. “Give me your phone, Sai.”

“No!”

“Give it to me!”

Wincing, I fumbled it out, unlocked it, and passed the device to him. He took it, fingers grazing mine, burning them, and I waited as his thumbs tapped in the contact information.

“Take it,” he repeated, extending the phone to me again. “Just in case.”

“Sure,” I said. A glance told me he had put himself in discreetly as IU. It also told me his number and embezzled it on my mind in a kind of fiery haze. Hot and painful.

The number was deleted from my phone before I hit the stairs. A good thing.

I wasn’t thinking when I walked in, wasn’t paying attention. Not until Mizuki snatched the phone out of my hands. “What’cha got there, Sai?”

I blinked at him, already tensing. “Nothing.” Not a lie. I’d already removed the thing which would displease him. Except from my mind.

Mizuki’s smile was just as malicious as if Itachi’s number were displayed on the screen, however. I stood there, letting him unlock my phone while I felt, more than saw, Rasa, Zabuza, and Fūka close in on me from behind.

_God, all of them. It’s going to be all of them._

But I didn’t move. Trying to get out of it made it worse. So, I stood, and I waited while Mizuki’s grin got wider and more sadistic.

“Yeah. Nothin’,” he agreed, tossing my phone down and kicking it away to a corner. Out of my reach. Not that I’d try to use it, but it would make me feel more helpless not to have it. Just what he wanted. “Nothing but this.” The bigger boy grabbed my coat at the collar and used it to pull me in close. He smelled of smoke and it stung. “How long you been fucking the pretty boy in the truck, Sai?”

_He’s prettier than you…_

“Haven’t.” The word barely moved my lips. My heart was hammering against my ribs.

Next instant Mizuki was grabbing me in the groin so hard it made me groan, throwing my head back, spine arching.

“Yeah? Can’t hear you, Sai! Say that again.”

“Haven’t!” I managed, eyes squeezed shut, Mizuki’s fingers squeezing me harder.

“Doubt that! You’re a lying, little bitch, Sai. And you know what bitches are good for.” He let go of my balls, only to drag my feet off the floor with both hands on my collar. “Don’t you, baby?”

I whimpered and nodded, already feeling the tears starting.

“Thought so.” These words from Mizuki brought laughter from Fūka, Zabuza, and Rasa. Smiling, my silver-haired tormenter kissed me, until I was gasping, then tossed me back into the others’ waiting hands. They held me tight while Mizuki advanced.

“I bet he tastes good, doesn’t he, Sai. Your pretty boy.”

“Haven’t!” I wailed. Hopelessly. Mizuki wouldn’t stop when he was in the mood.

“Sure, baby,” he cooed, one hand gripping my chin, the other running down my stomach to make me twitch before he unzipped my fly. “Bet you’re hot in that coat…”

On cue, the other three stripped me out of the garment and the crop top I wore under it. Rasa held my hands over my head, while Zabuza twisted my nipples. I was gasping before Fūka’s hands shoved my loose pants down and gripped my dick. Smooth as silk, with a little hum of pleasure, she slid a cock ring on and made sure it fit snug.

“Wouldn’t want you cumming, now would we?” the vixen purred in my ear.

“Please…” My gaze went up to Mizuki. “Please.”

“Please what?” He turned and picked up an open bottle from behind him. Sloshed around the liquid inside. “Want this? Well, you’re going to have to work for it, little whore. Yeah?”

He snapped his fingers and I was on all fours and his fingers were curling in my hair. “However your pretty boy tastes, I’m what you’re going to suck tonight, Sai. All of it. And you’re going to make me happy, or I won’t let you drink.”

My throat was closing up, the tears making it burn and constrict. His face was doubling above me, but I was still jerking my head in agreement, despite the pain of my hair tugging in his grasp.

“Then get to it, little bitch. Be a good slut for me.”

He never forced his cock in my mouth. That would be too easy. He always made me do it. Made me take it myself.

It hurt opening his fly, hurt pulling out that thing and wrapping my lips around it. Hurt worse than when he thrust down into my throat, making me see dark stars. Chocking out air.

It even hurt worse than the feel of someone kneeling over my bent form, their panting loud in my ear. _Which one?_ I had time to wonder before a pierced cock tore me open, making me scream around Mizuki’s thing in my mouth. _Zabuza._

Blood ran down my trembling thighs and spit over my lips, but I didn’t let go of Mizuki’s shirt or stop the swirl of my tongue. Not even when I gaged. Not even when I tasted some blood in the back of my mouth from him tearing my throat, followed by the salt of cum. Struggling against the heave of my stomach, I did my best to swallow. All the same, some ran down the corners of my lips when Mizuki pulled out.

“Hump.” His thumb caressed my bruised mouth, wiping the cum over my lips. “Bet that takes the taste of pretty boy off your tongue, hey, Sai?”

“Yes!” A grunt and a gasp, while Zabuza pierced me from behind. I was aching down between my legs. Wanting to come and not being allowed. “Please, Mizuki. You said- Said you’d let me- Drink!”

It hurt so damn bad and I just wanted it to end. If that meant what he’d mixed for me, I’d take it. He knew it, too.

“You really want it, Sai?” The bottle was swirled around in front of my face, and Fūka purred a laugh, settling herself in front of me. Pushing on my chest until I was kneeling with Zabuza working me from behind and the vixen sliding unto me from the front.

“Yes!” A pained shout that time, hating that warm wetness encasing me. “Mizuki!”

Smirking, he gripped my hair again and pulled my head back. Shoved the bottle between my lips. Burning alcohol and something bitter beneath. I swallowed it all. And, blessedly, missed Rasa having his turn and the lot of them using me at once when Rasa was done.

† † †

It was near three in the morning when I came to enough to process just how I ached. They’d left me in the hall, of course. Right by my discarded phone and pile of clothes. Fine. Just fine that. The fact made it easier to lurch upright, palm vomit off my face, and pull my clothes on over my aching everything.

Then I just sat there awhile, leaning on the wall, dazed and buzzed as fuck. I just wanted to sleep. Sleep and move on. Get back on my feet tomorrow and repeat. It would all happen again, after all. I knew it. It always did.

And the understanding hurt. Stabbed directly my weary heart because, for once, I _didn’t_ just want to sleep and wait for Mizuki to call his bitch for a little humping. My eyes fell on my phone, and I whimpered. There was no other sound in the house. Just sighing floorboards and heavy breathing.

It took _effort_ to move, my body, to pry it off the wall and drag it to where my phone lay, but I did it. The thing’s screen was cracked, but it lit up when I touched it, and unlocked after a few fumbling attempts with numb fingers.

My forehead thumped on the floor, cheek to wood, phone loose under my nerveless hand. I dozed that way for… however long, before I whimpered again. My coat was a few feet away. It felt like a week before I reached it. But oh, it still smelled like Itachi. Just a whiff of his clean scent.

That brought tears to my eyes. I let them fall while I struggled into the coat. Then I was out the door. The cold hit me like a punch or a hard slap to the face, but I liked it. Sharp, it woke me just enough to stagger off, weaving from one side of the barren street to the other.

Where I was going hardly occurred to me. My feet took me there, even with my mind fucked up. The park was hardly better than the neighborhood, but it was still _green_ in the summer. Locked in the dead of winter, when it hadn’t snowed in weeks, it was a shit show of gray, dirty, frozen slush and abandoned playground equipment, rearing up out of the hard ground, like bleached skeletons in the desert.

I collapsed by the slide. Just looking up at the piercing, hard stars. Far away and sharp, like the sting of February air on my skin. My body wanted to doze again, but I knew if I allowed that I’d die.

Laughing little, hiccupping sobs, I pulled my phone out with shaking fingers. Maybe I would have just lain in the snow and died, but I wanted to see him again. Itachi’s number was in my head, somewhere.

It took several attempts with unfeeling digits and drug fogged memory, but the numbers came. The call connected. I expected no answer. Possibly a voice mail recording. Not an answer. Yet, even a recorded rumble of that voice would have been nice.

“Hello?” The word was slurred, but if was his. It made me start crying freely again. Breaking down with a relief I didn’t know I could feel.

“Who is this?” That voice was more alert then.

“Itachi…”

“Sai?! Good god, what happened?!”

“Find me…” I whispered the words. “Need you…”

“Where are you?!” There were frantic sounds alongside his voice. The rustle of fabric.

“Mmmm…” Hearing him made me want to sleep again. It felt warmer suddenly. But sleep meant death, and he was coming to find me. “Want you,” I croaked. After that the where came little by little. Itachi pulling it from me a word at a time.

He talked to me the entire time he drove, and that gave me the motivation to try moving. I managed to sit up and lean against the slide. Cradling the phone in my lap, speaker phone activated.

Even with it all, I was nearly unconscious when Itachi found me. The drugs in my system taking their toll. It was that sensual voice which drew me back. Called me awake.

“Sai! Sai!”

His hands were on my shoulders, and slowly my head came up. “You’re so beautiful,” I moaned. By then, the tears were frozen on my face.

“Shit!”

The hands vanished from my shoulders and scooped me up. I was like a rag doll in his arms, but, fuck, was he warm. My face turned into his throat and his scent was there. Perfect.

“Don’t put me down…” It was a wretched plea when he tried laying me on the seat of his truck. But I had no strength to cling to him, so it hardly mattered.

“Just hang on, Sai.”

He was around the truck and in the cab with me before I could really begin to cry. Then his hand was in my hair and we were moving. The sway of the vehicle over the road a balm along with the heat.

“I’ll get you to a hospital, just stay awake, Sai!”

“No!” A wail. “Not the hospital! Please! Just cold. Just want to sleep! Please! Please! Please! No!”

He protested, but the hysteria in my begging convinced him. “Alright, Sai. I’ll take you home. _My_ home. Stay with me, and I won’t take you to the hospital.”

The urge to sleep was tremendous, but if it meant no doctors, no unwanted hands on me, I determined to conquer it. Talking with Itachi helped. He kept me murmuring to him, until he pulled to a stop and lifted me out of the truck.

I’d expected a house, something lavish. What Itachi had was not that. He lived in an apartment. A _nice_ apartment, but an apartment all the same. And his apartment was on the second floor, and he held me to his chest all the while the elevator carried us up.

There was little impression of his living area. Dark spaces and warmth, and then his bed enfolding me. I moaned when he took my coat off.

“Tell me what happened, Sai. Why were you out there?”

I cried and shook my head, but his fingers traced over my exposed abdomen. Gingerly feeling the marks there. “Tell me the truth, Sai. You smell like a distillery, and these bruises look like fingerprints.”

Shame, bloody _disgust_, rolled over me. “Drugged me.” The burn of tears in my eyes and Itachi’s fingers stopped. They moved to grip my arm and turn me over on my back.

“Now?! What did they give you?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does-”

“Raped me.”

He went still. I shut my eyes, the tears coming out. _See something you like, pretty boy? Just a mess. A disgusting mess._

“Sai…”

“Let them. I let them do it.”

He sighed. His thumb wiped the tears away. “I need to have a look at you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I rasped.

Despite my words, his hands still moved reverently, respectfully, to remove my clothes. I was on my stomach again when he pulled my pants away.

“Fuck, Sai!”

I couldn’t figure out the anger and further disgust infused in those words at first, then I remembered I still had blood dried on my thighs and could still feel a thin trickle of it moving in my nether regions.

“Shit!”

“Fine.”

“What?!”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Sai. I should be calling the police.”

“No.” That came out far too calm.

“Sai.”

“I let them. Every time. I let them.”

“Oh, Sai.”

“I’m just so tired of being used.”

There was a pillow under my cheek. It smelled of him, and I let the tears out into it. His slender hands stroked up and down my back, so warm and strong. Stirring something restless in me. “Want you,” I murmured, body shifting to try and mold with his.

Those hands stuttered. “Sai, please.”

But please was my word, my refrain, and I wasn’t above begging. I pleaded with him through my tears until I couldn’t breathe. Until I was gasping, and my vision blurred. Only then did he take me in his arms from behind and try to hush me.

“Alright, Sai, alright.”

His hands explored me, and he sprinkled kisses over my back and shoulders. I could feel him heavy and hard against my ass, even through his cotton pants, and I liked that, pressing back against him. Only to jerk when one of his hands slid beneath me to stroke my erection.

Still too wasted to do anything else, I moaned, hips bucking just a bit, wanting more traction where he was touching me, but unable to keep up motion. It didn’t matter. Itachi held me up with one hand and brought me to release with the other. Finally. Something in me had wanted that for so long.

“Rest now, Sai,” he said, kissing the shell of my ear, as my breathing evened out. “You’re safe here.”

I was tottering toward sleep but needed to articulate the desperation I still felt. “Can… You can have me. Do… what you want.” Because he was still hard in his pants, and I wiggled myself up against that bulge. A fleeting movement.

“No.” He pressed his lips to the back of my neck. “I want to help you, Sai. I don’t want anything for myself.”

And that was just why I wanted him. Why I wanted to whimper with him inside me, torn up back there or not. Because, for once, it would be nice to be had by someone who didn’t want to use me. But my mind was drifting, and my body couldn’t resist anymore, and I gave into sleep.

† † †

I woke in his bed somewhere after noon the next day. Stiff. And hung over. And knowing I was in deep shit. Mizuki would do it all over again and worse for this. _Should never have left, Sai. You know better. Now it’s time to face the music._

Itachi was beside me, dozing in nothing but pajama bottoms. His hair all fanned out over everything. I reached out and ran a strand through my fingers because, at that point, it couldn’t get any worse. _You really are a fucking, pretty boy._

And I wished he’d just fucked me the night before, so I could remember he’d had me. But he hadn’t, and I knew, even if I woke him and asked him to, he wouldn’t. So, I would just have to remember his hand on me and how he’d let me come and call it enough.

I was dressed when he woke, just shrugging into my coat when his eyes fell on me.

“Sai?”

“I’m going home.”

“What?!” He sat up, lightning in his eyes and thunder in his voice, making me wince and cower.

“You helped me out and shit, but that’s done now. I gotta go back.”

“Back?! They rapped you, Sai! They drugged you and rapped you.”

“You think I don’t fucking know that, pretty boy! It’s my fucking life!” He blinked at the name and the outburst I hurled at him, but I went on in disregard of it. “I don’t know what in the shit you want from me, if you don’t want to shank my ass! You _can’t_ save me, Itachi. And I can’t stay here. What would you even _do_ with me?! For that matter, what would the college think if they found out you were dicking around with one of your students?!”

A grimace crossed his face, but he tried to protest. “That doesn’t matter!”

“It does fucking matter! Your career matters!”

The man unfolded from the bed, a movement of grace. “There must be somewhere else you can go then there, someone else you can turn to, Sai.”

“I don’t have any money,” I spat bitterly. “Mizuki-” I winced again and deflated, looking down. Unable to say Mizuki didn’t charge me in money for my presence in his house.

“Family,” he began.

“No!” The word was panicked. My body tensed and my eyes widened, as I backed up and struck against the door. “Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that! At least Mizuki-” The last of it choked out in my throat and the pallor of my face must have told him more than anything else of my horror.

“Sai,” he said, coming toward me slow, holding out his hand, as if I were a wounded animal who might bolt or bite. I bolted.

Spinning, I banged open the door and darted through the rooms, guessing where the outer door might be by instinct.

“Sai! SAI!”

He caught me, of course. He was stronger, quicker, and he knew the terrain of his apartment. I made the door, only to be slammed into it by his weight, his hands grabbing my wrists.

“Stop, Sai!” he growled in my ear, while I cried out, wriggling in his hold. Then I was spun around, my back thrust against the door, my hands held and pinned above my head. Our breaths panted together, and he was pressed flush with me, making my heart flutter. “I want you to stop running from me, Sai!” Another growl.

“What are you going to do?”

He must have seen my dazed expression, how my eyes went dull and unfocused in anticipation, and felt how my body went limp. Accepting. Must have because his hands released mine and he slammed his fists to the wood to either side of my head. My arms came down to my sides, even as he sagged forward, face hanging above mine, as I tilted it back. Hair slipping over his shoulders.

“Nothing. I’m not going to do anything to you, Sai.”

The weightless, dizzy feeling in my limbs, the one signaling sick expectation, dissipated, along with the tight twist in my gut preluding desperation. Breathing short, shallow inhales, I looked up at him. This prefect man.

“You really are a pretty boy.”

I tilted my head further back, angling it to the side, and toward his. My lips nudged his, prompting them open with subtle movements, until our mouths slotted together. It was only me at first, only my want, but Itachi responded, pushing forward, until I was all but crushed against the door, and our hearts pounded as one. His thigh was up between my legs, applying delightful pressure, but his fisted hands did not move or try to hold me.

Then I was fumbling for the doorknob and dashing out and away, down a stairwell with Itachi’s voice calling my name in my ears.

“Sai! Sai, stop!”

I didn’t though. I kept going and didn’t look back, even when my feet hit pavement. Didn’t think because I wanted the last good memory I had to be the taste of him on my lips.

† † †

It was two days of pleading before Mizuki would let me have oblivion, and, by then, I was almost too tired to care. Three days before they all let me alone to my misery. Four days before I recovered enough consciousness to understand my own disgust at myself, I harbored.

I was a gross, little slut sprawled naked on a bare floor, blinking half-blurred eyes at a stained ceiling. My body was marked all over bruises and bites, my mouth tasted of days old cum and I lay, limp, in a pool of tacky fluids I couldn’t identify. I was hideous in my own opinion.

_You’re nothing but a whore, Sai. His little, pet whore. His bitch. And you let yourself be._

And that made me cry because I could still smell Itachi. Could still remember the feel of his lips and the warmth of his hands, as they stroked over my back. Not taking, only giving.

He would hate me if he could see me.

Sure of it, I didn’t try to stifle the slow-moving tears or the rasping sobs. Just let them all compile, one on top the other, until I couldn’t breathe, and my vision darkened. Because it mattered. For once, something fucking mattered!

I was used goods. Nothing but someone’s toy to play with. He’d made me that. I’d let Mizuki make me that. And I was tired.

_You can’t do it anymore, Sai._

_Just can’t._

That was truth.

So, I peeled myself off the floor and pulled my clothes on with trembling fingers, before shuffling my way to the bathroom, pulling myself along the wall an inch at a time. My legs were weak, and my movements slow with my head spinning, but it didn’t matter. It was night, and the house was asleep. No one would see me or try to stop me.

In the bathroom, I pocketed one of Zabuza’s straight edges. My fingers encountering a flat, square object when I dropped the razor in my pocket. Unthinking, I brought the thing out. My phone. It powered on at my reflective touch, showing multiple missed calls from the same, unsaved number. Itachi’s number.

Blinking back tears, I replaced the thing in my coat pocket, and exited the house. Not looking back.

It’d snowed for the first time in a month. Snowed recently because the stuff was fresh. Gritty and dry and unmarked by footsteps or tire tracks. Even in my state, stumbling along, sometimes tripping to my knees, I knew it to be pretty.

The world was white and clean.

And the park glittered. Playground equipment poking up out of the powder, only to be reduced to padded, rounded edges. A child’s soft dream.

And the cold of the days before Mizuki had grounded me was less, too. My breath only puffed in subtle, near indistinguishable clouds before melting away. It was all too pretty and perfect.

I stained it of course. When you open your veins, you’re bound to leave a mess. I would have been sorry about that, but I passed out part way through it. Laying on my back in the snow, as though I were making a perverse snow angel, my wrists spilling my worthless life out. Letting it slide in hot runnels to meet the crystal snow and sully it. Perhaps I looked a macabre artwork. Dirty boy in the clean snow, blood fanned around me like great, red wings.

It didn’t matter.

What really concerned me was maybe I didn’t cut deep enough. Perhaps my hands had betrayed me, shaking and hesitating and not slicing down far enough to accomplish the task because I woke when my phone rang shrilling into the night.

My head twitched toward it, mind dimly wondering what this intrusion was, until it blundered on the realization my phone had fallen from my pocket when my fumbling hand had tried to pull Zabuza’s straight edge out. The phone lay in the snow near me, its screen lit up with a familiar set of digits. Itachi’s number.

I whimpered at the sight because he _should not_ want me. But he _did_, and he was calling for me, and I could not ignore him. He should hate me, be disgusted by me, but, instead… Instead…

My hands were clumsy when I curled unto my side, in an attempt to reach for the chiming device. Clumsy, and more like clubs, than anything useful, but I still managed to draw the screen close to my face and connect the call.

“Sai! Sai, thank god! I’ve been calling you for days!”

“I-itachi…” The name was not even a whisper on my lips, more a collection of low, broken sounds I was sure he couldn’t hear.

“Sai?! What’s going on?!” There were sounds behind the words. The rush of traffic and the thrum of an engine. Relaxing sounds coupled with Itachi’s voice. The sounds my mind and body associated with the comfort of his truck and resting there while he drove. It all made me just want to sleep. Yet… “Sai! Talk to me, Sai!”

The phone fell from my fingers, to lay beside my face, my cheek pressed to the snow, with the light of the screen creating shadows in the hollows of my eyes. “Find me…” I murmured. “Itachi… Need you.”

“Where are you, Sai? I’m coming for you.”

“Want you,” was my only reply. Then, despite myself, I dropped off to unconsciousness.

Or, near it. I could still feel the chill of the snow and the ache in my wrists and the slither of the tears down my cheeks. Distantly, I could even hear Itachi calling my name and talking to me. But I could do nothing but lay there. Waiting for death or life or neither.

Maybe, just waiting for the strength of Itachi, as he pulled me from the ground.

“I have you, Sai. This time, I’m not letting you go.”

The words were a blur. Meaningless. The only thing I cared for was the warmth of his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> This salty ball of angst and glitter is an original fiction author and fan fiction writer, who literally lives for comments and reader interaction. Even if this is nothing but inarticulate vowel screams, lol. He exist on a flotilla of social media, separated into a wide array writery things.
> 
> If you are crazy enough to want to see what I'm writing on any given day, and maybe try tempting me into writing something specific, feel free to join me in my personal writing Discord [Midway](https://discord.gg/jsQw96p), or friend me on Discord at LeoOtherland#7066 if you would rather chat one on one.
> 
> On Facebook I can be located on my [author page](https://www.facebook.com/LeoOtherland/) for all things original fiction, or in the [AO3 Armada group](https://www.facebook.com/groups/601270063618951) for all things fan fiction.
> 
> On [Twitter](https://twitter.com/RoseOfOtherLand) or [Tumbler](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/leootherlands) I primarily run with the fan fiction crowd and I seldom post and/or tweet anything, but if you want to drop me a line, I am always up for a chat.


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